


Rain Clouds and Ink Stains

by KiaSqueaks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cas gets a tattoo, Dean can't text, Inspirational Quotes, M/M, Short Messaging Service messages, Sob stories, Tattoo Artist Dean Winchester, Tattoos, emotions are hard, holy tax accountant Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 11:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15533037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaSqueaks/pseuds/KiaSqueaks
Summary: Castiel Novak had lived his life by the book his entire life. He thrived on structure, monotony, and the blinders he clings to. But a literal road blockage gives him an alternative view of the world and taking a chance, he finds that rain doesn't always have to be sad, and some stains show beautiful soul.





	1. Chapter 1

There was something about the cold, crisp air of an autumn night that really spoke to the loneliness in Castiel’s soul. He had gotten off work, tugging the restrictive tie away from his throat as soon as he had left the building as if the simple movement would allow him to breathe for the first time since setting foot inside. It was rather surprising how stifled he felt. He wasn’t like his brothers in that he took it as permission to ignore his responsibilities and quit, run the globe, travel… he just persisted.

He was good at persisting.

Castiel had spent his entire life, or as long as he could remember, doing what he was told to do. He went to school, he never cut class as his older brother Luke had done. He never mouthed off to those in positions of authority and treated everyone from the teachers to the janitors with respect as adults with more world experience and wisdom. He had been a quiet child, studious and introspective. 

His teachers would describe him as quiet, thoughtful, lonely and peculiar. He wasn’t popular and athletic like Michael and Luke, he wasn’t persuasive and ambitious like Gabriel or even funny and innovative like Balthazar. He prefered to sit in the garden or the park with a book, sketch little things to himself, and study. His brothers had teased him for it, but it had paid off in high grades and acceptance into several premiere schools. 

He had done as expected, going to school, getting a degree in advanced bioinformatics and life sciences, getting his PhD in biology so that he could spend his day working in a laboratory. He hadn’t really considered what that would mean when he had been elbow deep in his masters and doctorate programs. He knew he wanted to study life systems and work on important issues like sustaining ecosystems for different animals, studying the effects of habitat change with the invasive nature of human advancement, and use technology to mitigate the negative side effects of technological advancement.

Unfortunately, more often than not that meant he was stuck in a cubicle, spending hours crunching numbers and spending a lot less time than he had expected with the actual species that he studied. 

Ignoring the way each breath left him in an ephemeral trail of vapor with each steady exhale in the biting cold, he trudged on down the street, caught up in his usual introspection as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and felt his heart slow to the same steady thump as the messenger bag against his hip. His hair settled round his ears with the light drizzle. It was only a shrill beep that caught his attention enough to realize he nearly walked into a barrier. 

He stared for a moment, blinking deep cerulean eyes at the white and orange barrier and it took entirely too long for him to process the fact that the following block was closed down for pedestrian traffic as they repaired the sidewalks. He sighed and turned to walk down to the next block to continue his commute home, surprised to find he wasn’t really upset with the disruption to his routine. 

Did he ever get upset anymore?

He wasn’t sure he had really experienced a strong emotional response in the past year. He just… felt numb to the general irritations of the world. He didn’t think he was depressed. He felt no despair at his life, no fury with the lack of immediate reward. He felt nothing more than mild irritation at having to change his routine with this unexpected road closure… he just… persisted. 

He walked down the unfamiliar block, realizing that despite it being so close to his home, he’d never walked down this street. He gazed around the street, taking in the new restaurants and shops, noting a few in his head as ones he might look up and try in the near future, an unsettled feeling tugging at his stomach as he realized just how insulated his life had been since his move several years ago. As he walked down to the next cross street a brightly flashing sign caught his eye. He felt curiosity tickle his gut as he took in the sign and realized it was a tattoo parlor after a few moments of examining the stark black sign with neon blue lettering scrolling across it. He paused in the street as he stared at the softly glowing blue lights and his head cocked to the side as he took in the sight. 

He had always personally appreciated the aesthetics of tattoos but had never considered one for himself. But standing in the drizzle, feeling an overwhelming sense of apathy for his life and realizing suddenly just how empty he felt, he found himself slowly drawn toward the parlor. 

The window was narrow but had a few pictures hanging in it, quality pieces that highlighted a beautiful collection of tattoos, some with flowing script, some that seemed layered with a thousand shades that added a hyper realistic appearance to the curving body of a classic car. He had been staring so long at the photos he was startled when the door opened next to him and the man holding it open lifted a single eyebrow. “You coming in?” the man drawled. 

Castiel stared at the man in front of him, taking in the jade of the other man’s eyes then trailing down his body. Tight jeans encased thick thighs, emphasizing the bowed appearance of his knees. The denim was worn soft from repeated washings, thin in places that tightened something in Castiel’s stomach he couldn't identify. Castiel wondered if the material would feel like butter and he nearly reached out to see, barely keeping his hand still at his side through sheer force of will. The man was wearing a black shirt with a cracked band logo faded across his chest. His eyes were about to cross over shapely shoulders before they zeroed back in to the other man’s forearms as the thought jolted through his consciousness… The colors he had assumed belonged to a shirt was a sprawling tattoo across his left forearm that caught Castiel’s attention with riotous color. It wasn’t a single piece, but rather a flowing pattern. In the center of his inner arm was an odd symbol that at first looked like a pentagram, then flowing out from it were bits of jagged lines that swirled into patterns, off to one side was a large geisha, half hidden behind a fan and seemingly staring straight into Castiel’s soul as a grouping of flowers balanced it, subtle and showing that same hyperrealism from the picture in the window. 

The man cleared his throat and Castiel felt blood rush to his cheeks, heating them. “I apologise.” he said softly, meeting the man’s jade green eyes and catching the light smirk as he slowly approached, passing the man as he crossed the threshold. “Welcome to Metamorphosis tattoo.” the other man intoned and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before he motioned Castiel over to the counter. “Do you have any questions?” He appeared to assume Castiel would have several. 

Castiel considered for a moment as his eyes took in the clean interior of the parlor and he nodded slowly. “What is the process for getting a tattoo at the shop? Is there anything involved beyond the signing of forms, payment and the actual tattooing process? A wait period?” He guessed. 

The man eyed him and shook his head. “Well usually you’d make an appointment. You’d explain what you wanted and the artist would sketch something up, you’d consult on the piece and when you were satisfied, make an appointment to have it done.” he explained. 

Castiel considered that and nodded before hesitating. “Do you ever do a tattoo the same day?” He asked curiously. His tone remained generally calm, the same quiet despondency and numbness creeping in so that he was surprisingly even in tone. 

The other man considered Castiel for a long moment and Cas felt a sudden twist in his stomach. It felt like the other man was literally stripping Castiel from years of emotional and physical barriers to look into his soul. It made his breath hitch lightly as the thought reminded him of the exact tattoo he wanted and he swallowed as thick eyelashes fluttered down over his eyes and he pulled out his wallet. “I ask because, I know exactly what I want.” He explained carefully to the other man. 

Long, delicate fingers drew out the wallet and flipped it open, digging behind his license to pull out a yellowed, aged piece of paper. He tucked his wallet back away and began to carefully unfold it, once, twice, three times… each crease etched into the aged paper and then once more to reveal a flowing, loopy script in faded ink. Castiel’s eyes were riveted by it for a moment before he carefully handed it over to the other man. “Could you do this? Recreate the script?” He asked the other man quietly. 

The words seemed to echo in the quiet shop, over the background of classic rock and the silence inherently present when an open space was devoid of other humans. He still felt oddly vulnerable and it only intensified as the man turned jade eyes back up to search his face before eyeing the paper. “Yeah man, I could do that… blow it up or shrink it too.” He offered. “It wouldn’t be that big of a deal.” He explained. 

Castiel nodded twice and then considered. “Could it be framed with flowers and lines?” He requested then. “Snapdragons?” he suggested then, one of his mother’s favorite flowers and a particularly great pollinators for bees in his garden. He loved their gentle lines and how they grew in grouped stalks, somehow bigger than life in a collective. 

Dean quirked an eyebrow and he tugged a phone out of his back pocket, clicking around on it for a second and studying the screen before nodded carefully. “Yeah I can do that man, let me do a quick sketch for you?” He suggested and then hesitated. “I gotta ask… have you ever done this before?”

Castiel shook his head and hesitated but decided to continue replying honestly despite the vulnerability that continued to prick at the back of his neck and make him want to flee. “No. I’ve never gotten a tattoo… but I have been thinking about it for years.” He answered honestly. Even though the thoughts had been more passing fancy than actual consideration. 

The artist seemed to hesitate again before nodding slowly. “Alright man, take a look around, I’ll get this sketched up.” He explained and he went to the desk, his green eyes sharpening as soon as he picked up a pen and began to blow up the flowing script and then began transferring it to the tracing paper and began to sketch in the flowers. He wasn’t going to worry about the specific colors obviously but when he looked up the flower he frowned. “Hey, uh… what’s your name?” He asked and Castiel turned from the picture he was examining on the wall. 

“I am Castiel.” He greeted the other man, “Castiel Novak.” he added and the artist flashed an easy smile. “Dean.” He responded and nodded. “What color snapdragons are you wanting to do? Orange, purple, pink?” He asked curiously as he continued to sketch out the design, adding flowing black lines like thorny vines that went off the flowers and framed in the words. This was going to be an awesome piece… but he was also trying to figure out exactly where the other man was planning on getting the ink. 

It didn’t honestly matter to him, but he wondered what such a straight laced man was doing trying to get some ink… the paper was really old and he handled it with care, he assumed, based on the writing, that it had been written by a woman close to the man… he wondered if it was the man’s wife or something but didn’t think to ask… not yet.

The man had seemed almost high when he had first came in but after watching him slowly and meticulously wander the store to look at the different examples of art and studiously stare at the displays for piercings he had changed that opinion. Castiel was quiet, but seemed like he had the weight of the world stacked upon the slender shoulders and he found his curiosity piqued. 

He finished up the sketch and then brought it to the front counter. “Alright man, Cas… come check this out.” he offered to the other man and his lips quirked up at the startled look that crossed the other man’s face. “Cas?” Castiel inquired as he came close before he sucked in a surprised breath at the sketch. His fingers came up to trace the paper just below the design and he nodded, obviously riveted by the design and his blue eyes flashed up to stare at Dean. “It’s perfect.’ He agreed and he looked at it before considering. “Purple… purple and pink snapdragons.” he decided as he gave a firm, decisive nod. “May I get the tattoo tonight?” He asked the man, hopeful due to the empty state of the parlor.

Dean hesitated again and then slowly nodded. “Yeah.” he agreed and he cocked his head at the other man. “You’re sure about this?” He checked. He could see the other man wasn’t the most emotive man but it was a huge commitment, even if he could laser it off later if he hated it. It was a big commitment though and Dean wasn’t sure he could get a good enough read off the other man to figure out his headspace beyond “not intoxicated” 

Castiel decisively nodded his head and he met Dean’s eyes, his own attention caught by the scatter of freckles over the man’s nose, then caught by the glimmer of the metal at his lip and he suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss a man with a lip ring. “I’m sure.” he said calmly and he glanced up at Dean before he took off his bag and began to unbutton his coat to hang both on the coat rack by the front door. 

Dean shrugged and nodded before grabbing the transfer paper to set up the outline and he motioned Castiel to come towards the back. “Great, come on back.” he suggested and he turned the music up a little bit as a familiar song came onto the playlist.

He busied himself as Castiel readied himself by pulling out fresh needles, his inks and set up the table. There was a certain ritual to it that Dean appreciated and he took a slow breath as he flicked on lamps, making sure to get out his supplies, carefully laying them out on the clean rolling tray, setting down the ointment and wrap he would need, the little caps with the ink, starting with black and doing three of them before finding the others and beginning to fill in the colors, setting up the palate that he could see in his mind’s eye after the research. He found several gloves and set them out, making sure he’d have plenty enough to change out several times just in case. He grabbed a razor just in case the man wanted it somewhere with body hair and he took a deep breath as he stretched his back and tugged his chair over. 

Castiel came over to him, still subdued and he carefully began to remove the long trench coat, folding it and placing it on the table next to them, then casually tugging at his tie to loosen it, the motion practiced and easy showing he did it often. The rumpled look was strangely appealing before it was slipped off, followed by a blue suit jacket, all meticulously folded. His fingers were long and slender and they caught Dean’s eyes, starting thoughts of using him as a hand model for a piece, nails clean and trim as they nimbly began to unbutton his shirt… Well at least it wouldn’t be awkward and on the man’s ass or something like that. Castiel carefully undid his shirt and put it off to the side in the same careful way before tugging off his undershirt to show pale skin with a few small moles scattered across thin shoulders. Without the undershirt, he looked strangely vulnerable in front of the other man, devoid of chest hair and surprisingly fit beneath the somewhat ill-fitting suit. 

Castiel felt oddly naked in front of the other man and he felt his skin pebble for a moment as he stood, waiting for instructions as the man set out what seemed like a thousand little bottles of ink. He felt trepidation fill his chest which he released with a slow breath. He was feeling the first rush of emotion in over a year, a bolt of anticipation and it left him winded and shaken. He hadn’t experienced such a rush of emotions in months and knowing that this would hard, that this would be a permanent mark on his skin… well it seemed strangely intimate. 

“So where’d you want this?” Dean asked Castiel as he motioned him to sit in front of him with a gentle pat to the table and he grabbed the transfer paper to get it ready before pausing. 

Castiel realized that he hadn’t actually thought about that but seeing the size and knowing how important the message was, the memory behind it… he pointed to his chest. “Here, over my heart.” He said decisively after just a small hesitation. 

Dean’s eyebrow rose and he hesitated again. “I mean that’s cool man, it’ll look great but… it’s also going to hurt like a bitch over your chest bone.” He cautioned. “You sure about that?” he asked once more. The man was a grown-up. If he was sure, then dean wasn’t going to argue too hard. But he felt like it was worth the warning, especially when this was Castiel’s first tattoo. 

Castiel nodded and he considered before slowly opening up, not exactly knowing why he felt he could trust Dean with this information but wanting to share it anyway. He felt like he knew the man well enough that he could trust him with the information. He wasn’t sure why, of course, after all, the man was a perfect stranger. But there was something about the man’s expressive green eyes and the open body language that told Castiel he was a good man. Maybe it was the fact that he was the first person to give him a nickname and treat him like a regular human, no hint of mocking in his expression. Whatever it was the man was calming and distracting and he had a body that spoke of strength and the hesitation that spoke of emotional caring that he felt strangely attracted to.

“I am certain.” he said calmly. “I understand that the actual process will be unpleasant but I am not worried about the pain and I think having it be painful might even be… appreciated.” he offered and he swallowed before sitting in front of the man, his own knees tucked between the wide sprawl of the tattoo artist’s. He sighed softly and felt a bit of tension leave his body as Dean stared at his chest and then reached for the razor to remove the small smattering of fine hair on his chest, each slow stroke of the razor leaving Castiel feeling as if he were becoming more and more exposed, like an onion with it’s layers peeled away one at a time. 

 

Each slow stroke felt like a cold finger tracing across his chest and it brought a flush of blood to his face as he felt his stomach clench with the sensation. He hadn’t had another person touch him beyond a few handshakes in over a month and even though it was subtle, a hand placed on his shoulder to keep him still… it shocked him deeply, shoving a red hot coal of desire into his stomach and he dropped his eyes so that Dean couldn’t see the vulnerability in the depths of his eyes.

He wondered, just for a moment, if he should leave. Apologize and dash out of the parlor, take his things and never come back. Could he do this? He felt his breath hitch as the razor got close to his right nipple and it pebbled from the attention, vulnerability switching to sudden arousal and he flushed deeper and cleared his throat lightly as it seemed to close on him. 

He studiously watched as Dean’s hands glided over his chest to ensure that he hadn’t missed any hair and then the cool paper crinkled as it was lifted and pressed to his skin to make sure the ink coated his skin, marking the pebbled flesh as easily as the man’s hands had seemed to burn into his soul. 

He held his breath, worried that the subtle movement might somehow ruin the outline and didn’t release it until Dean pulled away the transfer paper and he was able to stare down at the outline of the words across his chest. A thrill went through him at the picture that the words and design made across his fair skin and he looked up suddenly at Dean to try and gauge the man’s expression. 

“How does it look?” Dean asked the man suddenly and Castiel jumped despite having been looking at his face. He stood as Dean motioned him to the mirror and he walked over, hesitating before studying himself in the reflection. He was worried about what he would see… would it be something grotesque on his body? Would he hate it when he saw the actual outline of how his body was going to change? 

But his breath caught and his mouth fell open a bit as he stared at the outline on his chest and he quickly nodded, a glimmer of tear filling his eyes as he stared at the reflection and he turned back to dean. “Yes, this is perfect.’ He agreed and he quickly moved back over to the artist, eager for the first flash and sting of the tattoo, wanting to make the mark permanent. 

He was guided to lay down and the cool leather of the bench made him flinch and suck in a surprised breath as Dean crooked a smile at him and he pulled on gloves, careful to tug them tight so that he could work without being hampered. “Good.” He said and he eyed the man before he opened the package with the clean needles and he began to set up for the tattoo.

Castiel felt his stomach twist a little in anticipation for the start and he jumped, a shocked look gracing his face as Dean snapped on the tattoo gun and a loud hum filled the air. The sound was oddly hypnotic, like the sound of a swarm of bees and he felt his shoulders and stomach relaxing at the oddly familiar sound, despite having never heard it before and feeling the abject stress at the knowledge that soon the needles that were blurred at the tip of the gun were about to press into his skin. 

“Where did you get the phrase?” Dean asked as he got his gun ready with the black ink and then scooted closer with the stool so that he could lean over Castiel, his green eyes roaming the outline before carefully bringing the gun down to hover over the other man’s chest. “This’ll sting.” he warned. “Try to breathe slowly, don’t flinch or move, it might mess up the design.” he explained. “If you need to shift or cough or breathe deep, give me some notice so I can pull the gun away. Same if you need a break or want to go to the bathroom or something.” He explained and once he got the acknowledgement from Castiel, focused in to press the needles against the other man’s skin, hand coming down to anchor Castiel to the bench so he wouldn’t jump too sharply from the first prick of the needles. 

Castiel whimpered low in his throat, his jaw and arms going taut with the desire to jerk away from the sharp sting but he managed to keep his body still through sheer force of will and he breathed slowly as Dean began to nearly circle his wrist, his eyes riveted to Castiel’s chest.

Castiel had never felt so naked… or so alive.

Dean’s eyes were caressing his chest, solely focused and it allowed Castiel to focus on the man’s face. He had to focus on something and he wanted it to be anything but the sharp sting against his skin so he stared at the man’s features. The gentle slope of his nose and the surprising symmetry of his features that gave a slightly effeminate air to the man’s very masculine jaw. Blue eyes traced carefully over the stubble that graced Dean’s cheeks and chin, the light hair a soft brown with traces of copper and blonde weaved throughout the beard to match the honeyed hair on top of his head. He wasn’t simply a brunet but rather had traces of red and gold and blonde weaved throughout, giving it its own depth that fascinated Castiel. 

He closed his eyes at a particularly sharp lance of pain, his breath catching lightly and he clenched his fists before remembering that Dean had asked about the script. “It was a note… from my mother.” he said carefully as he tried not to move his chest too much by speaking. “It was the last note she left for me… before she died.” He explained and Dean nodded solemnly at that, his eyes flashing up to catch Castiel’s before returning to the darker haired man’s chest. “I’m sorry man.” he said softly as he continued painstakingly tracing the careful looping letters that were outlined on Castiel’s chest. 

“When did you lose her?” Dean asked then, his words soft and full of sympathy as his hand flattened carefully and adjusted against Castiel’s skin.

Castiel closed his eyes again, blocking out the man’s light smattering of freckles that Castiel wanted to trace with a finger and he cleared his throat lightly, trying to hide the prick of tears in his eyes from the combined loss and pain of the needles digging into his skin. “When I was 12.” he managed mostly evenly. “She died in a car accident.” he explained softly and he frowned a little at the memory. He could have left it at that but the odd attachment he felt towards the other man, coupled with the desire to end the suddenly stifling silence beyond the hum of the tattoo gun had him continuing “I was having a hard time with bullies.” he reminisced softly and he felt himself getting dragged back to that now insignificant feeling problem. “I was getting made fun of for my project on the southeastern blueberry bee.” He said softly, “I loved bees and decided to do my science project on them and their ecosystems.” He explained to the other man, unsure why he was going into such detail when the man surely didn’t actually want to hear it. Still, talking was keeping him calm and focused on something other than the stingingburningexcruciating pain in his chest. 

“I had been very excited about the project, had spent hours on the illustrations and the research, learning about the effects of habitat disruption from their territory being invaded by humans, wrote about the effect of deforestation and building suburbs into the fields that had once housed their food sources and how they had to adapt and the issues they were facing. I got up and gave the presentation alongside my peers with their baking soda volcanos and potato electricity and they had laughed at my presentation. I remember… I was devastated by it.” he admitted and his lips quirked although he took another sharp breath once Dean pulled the gun away to refill on in, the pain in his chest making him both relax and also tense. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted it to stop all together or whether he never wanted the sensation to end. Still he peered at his chest and felt a rush of joy at the dark words he could barely make out. 

“Man sounds like a bunch of dicks.” Dean said contemplatively, lost in his art as he brought the gun back to Castiel’s chest to begin on the next word, carefully shaping out the letters, not wanting to mar the easy flow of the lines, ignoring how stupid he had felt in school and how he had definitely done a baking soda volcano. “What happened then?” He asked, ignoring his own faint unease and shifting forward, his thighs sliding between Castiel’s, sending a little shudder up his spine from the brushing sensation as he resettled his hands against the other man’s flushed chest. 

“I ended up winning the science fair with it due to the research I had put into it and after school… well one of my main tormentors decided to push me off into the mud with my project and the display was ruined.” He said, his eyes glazed over with remembrance. 

Dean made a shocked noise, his brow furrowing. He had been the type of person to laugh at someone over the passion they would show in something like science and he felt an odd stab of shame and guilt for the realization that he could have easily been one of Castiel’s tormentors when he had been in school. The realization put a tight feeling in his chest and he frowned as he carefully continued to trace out the tattoo.

Castiel continued. 

“I got home, covered in mud, my project ruined and in tears and my mother had taken me into her arms, although at the time I felt I was much too old to be coddled by my mother, wanting her hugs and comfort like that. Still, I had felt a heartbreak not yet before experienced and she obviously wanted to make it better. She told me that I should never let the actions and words of another person bring me so high that I crashed when they became thoughtless, or so low that I could not pull my own soul back into the light. I shouldn’t allow others to crush me or force me to soar too high to support myself and I’ve never forgotten her words.” He said softly. 

He stared down at his chest and his expression went from contemplative to sad. “The next day I dreaded going to school, but my mother insisted. She packed me up with a lunch from home that she handed me as I was getting out of the car. I remember… I remember being mad at her because I hadn’t wanted to show back up to school, it was Friday and I had begged her to let me stay home for the day, have a 3 day weekend and rally myself before going back in to face my classmates. She refused and I was so mad at her for making me go.” he said as his eyes began to well and he swallowed carefully and then cleared his throat as Dean looked up at his face, his green eyes showing his own emotions at hearing the story. 

Dean’s face showed his own careful emotions, understanding, sympathy and a warmth that spoke to affection that Castiel had never really seen on another’s face since his mother. The thought made his throat close a bit and his voice came out softer, more vulnerable. “I didn’t say thank you for lunch, I just snatched it and said goodbye and she drove off. I made it through the first could of periods with my head down, sick of getting laughed at and I was so mad I snuck into the library with my lunch instead of going to the cafeteria. That’s when I found the note.” he explained softly and his breath hitched. 

“I read it and I… I scoffed at it, I… balled it up and shoved it into my pocket.” he remembered softly as he stared at his chest, Dean’s own eyes carefully going back to his work as he resumed the tattooing process. He seemed to realize that Castiel needed the pain to anchor him as he shared his story. “I got called over the intercom to report to the principal’s office and I…” he sniffled a little and swallowed. “I found my brothers were already there.” he said quietly as he stared, unseeing, at the ink and blood blooming over his chest as Dean gently wiped it away and began finishing up the last word. 

“I… I felt so cold and wondered what had happened… that’s when I found out… some drunk idiot ran a red light and crashed into her car. My dad had sent my uncle to come pick us up.” he shared sadly. “The last thing she ever said to me was “I love you, have a peaceful day, Castiel.” he shared as Dean straightened and he stared down at his chest. “And that… that was the last piece of advice I got from her.” He said quietly as Dean stared at Castiel’s chest. 

It read: Do not let the rainclouds of others dampen the fire in your soul.

Dean stared down at the words and they visually affected him enough that Castiel almost asked the man if they could take a short break, just to give them both a moment to collect themselves. He realized only then, when Dean’s eyes darted to his face and his expression opened gently, the hand on his chest gently stroking across his skin that he was crying. 

Castiel’s hand shakily rose to slowly wipe away the tears streaming from his eyes and as the man lifted the tattoo gun, he sobbed once before biting it back. It had been nearly 20 years since his mother had passed, he wouldn’t break down now, and the resolve helped him swallow back the remaining tears as he exhaled shakily. “I apologize.” He said softly and he wiped his tears.

Dean’s hand gently stroked over his chest and up to his shoulder, careful not to touch the outline laid out delicately over his pecs. “It’s alright, Cas.” Dean assured softly. “It’s not… uncommon.” He admitted, trying to make the other man feel better about the breakdown of emotion. “You got ink that means something to you.” he said, tone gruff as he shifted on his stool, his hand gently petting Castiel’s chest in an unconscious desire to comfort the other man. “It makes sense it’s’ gonna make you feel something.” He added and he cleared his throat, ignoring how he was close to tears himself, thinking about his own mother.   
He took a second, leaning back and cleaning out the gun in the little water cup to run out the black as he cracked his neck lightly. He wanted a second to breathe for a moment. Letting the black run out he went for a dark grey, liking how the softer lines lended to the splashes of color from the flowers, he knew that this was going to take a while to get the flowers like he wanted but he could outline them fairly quickly. He focused on that for a while and was startled when Castiel spoke again. “You have a nice voice.” came the quiet observation from the man whose chest he was all but caressing. 

Dean blinked green eyes up to meet startling blue and he tried to process the seemingly baseless comment. Castiel felt amusement well up within him, nearly as foreign as desire, and sadness and pain, “Your voice, you were singing along.” He elaborated as he watched the tattoo artist’s face as he motioned vaguely towards the speaker which was playing a familiar beatles song. “It was nice.” He offered, gaze intense as he examined Dean curiously. 

~~~~

Dean’s body stilled for a moment, his body frozen in felt his whole body seize for a moment in shock. He wasn’t used to someone noticing his love of music, he certainly wasn’t used to someone complimenting his singing, he knew he didn’t have the best voice but being caught up with Cas… well the man’s story and odd sincerity only pinked his cheeks as he shifted and grunted in response. He couldn’t help but feel pleased that this virtual stranger had taken some form of delight in his singing but he couldn’t get passed the embarrassment for relaxing enough to do it in front of a customer. He avoided Castiel’s eyes for a moment, focusing on adding the first layer of shading in the tattoos. 

When he glanced back up, Castiel was peering at him, eyes clear and blue as he examined Dean and it felt like the man was staring straight at his soul. He swallowed and his fingers flexed on Castiel’s chest, causing the darker haired man’s face to flush and darken with his own blush. The darkening of the man’s cheeks caused Dean’s lips to quirk on instinct, preening a bit that he could fluster the man so quickly. 

Castiel let his hand lift to grip Dean’s shoulder. “May I shift?” The question came and Dean pulled back a bit to let the man squirm, stretch and resettle in the chair. “Thank you, Dean.” The man said sincerely and Dean met his eyes again, lips quirking as his stomach clenched happily at the quiet, deep voice. “Yeah, No problem Cas.” He promised.

He let himself drift then, carefully and painstakingly adding the flowers, establishing a rhythm with Castiel who would occasionally ask him questions about pictures and posters around the shop and shared a bit more about his life. It wasn’t a lot of information but it was enough to catch and captivate Dean. Castiel was an accountant… something that explained the stuffy suit and quiet, smart demeanor. He enjoyed bees and gardening, which Dean couldn’t help but find adorable in the same odd, quirky way. Castiel promised to bring him some honey from his hives, which Dean thought sounded somehow sexual… even though he knew it wasn’t. 

It nearly pained Dean to realize once they were shifting to resettle Castiel into the chair that several hours had passed and the tattoo was nearly done, the expanse of color across pale skin startling for both the size and subtle variations in the colors of the flowers that were twining and surrounding the quote. It was a great piece and Dean was going to ask Castiel if he could get a picture to put in his portfolio. “How are you feeling Cas?” He asked the man, his green eyes peeking up through lashes as he shifted the gloved hand to gently pat the man’s clavicle. 

Castiel’s blue eyes locked on Dean’s for a moment before he glanced down at his chest in nearly childish curiosity. His expressions were shuttered but his eyes were expressive and they widened, blue mesmerizing as he took in the vibrant colors and the swirls of color and shapes that made up the groupings of flowers across his chest. He felt his breath hitch as he realized that the looping scroll of letters across his skin was the perfect copy of his mother's familiar yet foreign handwriting. He stared down at the collective piece that snuck over his chest, up to his shoulders, gliding just under his clavicle and sneaking down over his ribs on both sides. 

He nodded carefully, tears welling in his blue eyes and he looked up at Dean wordlessly. Dean felt his own breath catch as he saw the depth of the emotional grief and happiness expressed to him through the other man. Windows of the soul and all that crap, he supposed but still, he felt oddly vulnerable before the other man. "Yeah?" He asked, trying to get some sort of verbal response from Castiel and then relaxed, shoulders dropping in relief when he saw the quick nod from the other man. "Alright." he said and he nodded before he put the gun down, snapping it off and marveling, once again, at just how loud and persistent the noise had been, only noticeable when it was shut off. 

Dean quickly stripped his gloves and pulled on a new one, practiced in the motions before he gathered up the ointment, aquaphor because it was the best one and he'd continue to argue that for the rest of his life against the bougie douchebags who insisted on some expensive markup. He cleaned off Castiel's chest and nodded at it. "Hey... you mind if I get a couple pictures of it, use it for my portfolio?" he asked the other man, feeling the familiar tinge of shyness he refused to show to others at asking. He wasn't afraid to admit he wanted a picture for professional reasons, and perhaps a wider angled one for personal, not that he would ever admit that. 

Castiel seemed to hesitate for a moment then carefully nodded. "Of course, if it would be helpful for you." He said in a kind voice and he smiled at Dean. Why did this dorky guy make his stomach clench up like some middle school girl getting asked out to homecoming?! He hated the feeling, he felt like a little girl and he wanted to clench his fists in response just to get the feeling to go away. He grabbed his phone out and took several pictures of the man's chest, panning out a bit to show his face in two of them and then flipping back to the chest ones. "Want me to send you a copy?" He asked the other man. "So you can show it off?" He asked. He didn't think that Castiel was the type, but what the hell did he know? 

Castiel eyed the picture on the man's phone and then he nodded quickly in agreement. "Yes, please." He requested and he recited his phone number for Dean so that the man could text him. 

Dean tried to ignore the fact that he had just very effectively gotten a cute guy's phone number and he smiled at Castiel instead and went over to the cash register. "Awesome man well... if you ever want another tattoo I'll be here." He said once the pesky details of paying were out of the way. He had to admit he was a little impressed with the quick and easy way that Castiel had added 50 dollars to the fee as a tip and had put up the sensible wallet before meticulously dressing. Why was it that he looked even more delectable with his clothes on and rumpled than he had with them off? Life was cruel and it was laughing at Dean... he just knew it. 

Dean watched as Castiel straightened himself and grabbed his briefcase, "Thank you Dean." The man said calmly. "I will come in again if I decide to get another tattoo." He said. He startled somewhat when the door opened behind him and Benny walked in. Castiel seemed to gather himself and he nodded once more before leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

"Who's de holy tax accountant, Brother?" Benny asked in amusement as he watched the other man walk out, door closing behind him. He turned back to eye Dean then, a knowing look in his deep set brown eyes, smirk twitching at his best friend's lips. The knowing look caused Dean to scowl fiercely in response, feeling his defensive hackles rise and he closed the book on the counter a little too firmly and stalked back into the parlor to clean up after the session with Castiel. 

"No one." He said gruffly. "New client, a walk in." He added then. He winced a little, glad his back was turned as Benny strolled in and settled in the tattoo chair next to him, a smirk crossing his face, deepening dimples. "A walk-in Brother? I t'ought you didn' take those." He teased him as he eyed Dean. "What he get done?" He asked then, tone curious like it usually got when Dean worked on someone and he didn't get to watch. 

Dean sighed and threw out the ink cups, disposing of his sharps and then bringing out the disinfectants to clean down the area. "Quote and some flowers." He said curtly and then felt himself soften a little at the thought of the piece and what had inspired it. "Snapdragons." He added then, "In a big chest piece." he added before fishing out his phone and obliging his friend by pulling up one of the pictures that didn't include Castiel's face and pretty blue eyes.

Woah there.

Dean wasn't going to even examine that little brainslip. 

"Dayum Brother, you been working your hands off on dis one." Benny said with a low whistle and he nodded in appreciation. "Good one." He said and he settled back, only sighing and moving when Dean shoved at his hip to get him to move so he could disinfect the chair. He was thorough about it. 

"Thanks." He said, swelling with pride at Benny's sincere praise. It wasn't something he had gotten a lot when he was younger and so even the little bits of it here and there would make him swell with pride. 

"You t'ink he'll come back in?" Benny asked, smiling at Dean in a way that was way too knowing for him to feel comfortable. Dean huffed and fought the urge to squirm away. "Who knows man, he was pretty straightlaced." He said and shrugged. 

He couldn't stop the flair of hope in his heart that it wouldn't be the last time he saw the blue-eyed man. 

~*~

Castiel made his way home, ignoring the light drizzle of rain that dampened and flattened his hair around his ears. He could feel his chest throb and ache with every step down the pavement on his way home. Due to the detour and the adventures at metamorphosis, he was now walking in the dark. He was used to walking at dusk and he found it fascinating that the darkness of the night was so startlingly different and relaxed in the silence, observing how different it looked with the mist from the drizzle making it look like a dream state rather than the actual world. Somehow the mist surrounded him felt horrifically familiar.   
His chest hurt from the tattoo, the throbbing of it pounding strongly with each step he took towards his apartment and he felt his chest suddenly grow tight along with the stinging, aching pain. He gasped a little bit and he lifted his hand to grab at it, wincing from the paid of colliding his hand clumsily against his healing tattoo. 

Suddenly his breath was shortening and he felt himself getting lightheaded. He whimpered and he quickly stumbled up the stairs to his apartment and fumbled out the keys from his pocket with a shaking hand, panic flaring as he couldn't catch his breath. He hadn't felt like this in years and he dropped his bags and dragged his cell phone out of the pocket, fumbling to find Gabriel's phone number. 

He whimpered again as he heard it ring once, twice then gasped when he heard the warm tone of his favorite older brother. "Cassie! What's up baby bro? I haven't heard from you in ages!" Came the fond but scolding tone. 

"Gabriel!" He gasped, and whimpered again, nearly panting with the desire to get a full breath through his tightening chest. 

The nearly palpable playfulness faded over the phone and Gabriel's voice came deeper and more serious. "Castiel? Breathe baby bro... come on you can do this." He guided and gave deep audible breaths to get Castiel to follow him. Castiel's eyes closed tightly as he tried to listen and follow Gabriel's lead. Just hearing the other man's voice was easing some of the tightness in his chest and with all that he had experienced and felt today... well he couldn't help but feel like every part of him was exposed and aching. 

Castiel let out a sudden sob then, caught up as he managed a deep enough breath to feel his head rush with the welcome burst of oxygen in his lungs and Gabriel made quick, gentle cooing sounds, babbling reassurances as Castiel continued to try and breathe through the sudden tears. 

"Jesus Cassie, don't die on me bro." Gabriel's voice demanded after another broken sob and it made Castiel huff a laugh as he tried to take another, shuddering breath. "I miss you." he managed once his breathing deepened a little more and the tears lessened from heart wrenching sobs to a steady stream of tears. 

"Well of course you do." Gabriel reasoned, his tone cheerful though also at least a little relieved to hear Castiel gently easing from abject hysteria. 

Castiel laughed wetly then, though the laughter seemed almost foreign or stilted as if he didn't do it often. He felt as if there was some terrible weight that was being lifted from his shoulders and chest and it made him tear up again. "Of course." He agreed quietly and he sniffled as he tried to keep breathing. 

There was a pause from the other side of the phone and Gabriel broke it after a moment. "So... not that I don't love listening to you blubber and gasp over the phone, Cassie, it's honestly the best time ever... but what brought all of this on?" He asked. 

Castiel curled himself up on the couch and he wiped at his face before slowly responding. "I... I don't really know?" He offered carefully. "I uh... I did something today, impulsively." he admitted.

"Good going, little bro! Did you get laid?" Gabriel asked brightly and the quick easy question caused Castiel's heart to stutter and he felt his face burn with humiliation and embarrassment at the easy way that Gabriel had asked. "Gabriel!" he rebuked, earning himself a carefree laugh from the other man. "Oh hush Cassie, you virgin." Gabriel said in amusement. "What did you do then?" 

Castiel sighed in exasperation and he shook his head in amusement. "I... got a tattoo?" he admitted carefully. 

There was a pause and then Gabriel burst into laughter. "Oh good one! Pull the other leg, Cassie." came the fond response and Castiel frowned in sudden grumpiness that the man didn't believe him. He huffed and grabbed his laptop from the coffee table and opened it up, signing into Skype and calling Gabriel both for the desire to prove himself and also the quieter desire to see his older brother's face. 

Gabriel answered the call and hung up on the phone, his easy, wide smile spreading at Castiel's disgruntled expression and he popped his lollipop back into his mouth. "Hey bro." He greeted again and then he frowned. "Damn Cassie you look like shit."

Castiel's lips quirked in amusement. "Thank you." He drawled before quickly working to shuck his coat and jacket to show off the tattoo. "I um... I had a weird night." He said as he unbuttoned his shirt, yanking off his tie and showing the large black plastic covered bandage over his chest making Gabriel's mouth open and the lollipop drop in shock. "Jesus you weren't kidding?" He asked as he shifted forward to peer at his screen. 

Castiel shook his head and he carefully peeled off the covering to show it to Gabriel who whistled lowly over the call. "Damn Castiel, you couldn't get a little bit of ankle ink?" He teased as he stared at it then went silent for a moment. "Is that... mom's note?" He asked him and Castiel nodded, growing quiet as he considered what he wanted to say as he curled his knees up to rest his elbows on. "I don't know what I'm feeling." He admitted.

Gabriel sat back and he stared at Castiel through the skype screen, making Cas start to scratch his arm a little as he dropped his eyes. "So what the hell." Gabriel finally asked, though his tone wasn't unkind. "I haven't heard from you in 6 months beyond what... four or five texts?" He inquired. "Luci and Mikey haven't heard from you either." He pointed out. "You've lost weight." He noted and waved at the screen as Castiel looked up. "Bags under your eyes, you've got craters for dark circles under your eyes." he noted. "Then you go get a huge-ass tattoo." he pointed out. 

Castiel felt his stomach quiver and he tried to consider his answer and then finally opened his mouth... and it all fell out... the loneliness, the apathy, the dissatisfaction with his life, the routine, the realization today that he hadn't even walked down another street just three blocks from his home, the sudden feelings of being trapped and alone. He talked about laughing and crying for the first time that he could remember in a year. He hesitated for a long moment, dropping his eyes and shyly admitted to the attraction and connection he had felt with Dean and his fear that this was just because it was the first time he'd touched or spoken to another human in depth in the past year but how he hadn't felt that type of attraction or desire in years, and how he had been feeling somewhat broken because he hadn't even been able to claw himself out of the fog in his brain. 

Gabriel had made encouraging noises and silent support as Castiel reluctantly dragged all of these overwhelming feelings and emotions out of himself. He hadn't sighed, interrupted, looked away... just sat and listened and it was one of the reasons that Castiel loved him so much. 

He finished and found he was nearly breathless and that tears were welling in his eyes again, his body feeling drained yet light as a feather before his stomach clenched tightly admitted then the overwhelming feeling of guilt for having not reached out sooner now that he had. His guilt for feeling like a terrible brother for not having asked Gabriel about his own life and his sadness at their distance. 

Gabriel finally interrupted before Castiel started crying in ernest. “Cassie, bro, I love you but you don’t need to turn into such a girl about it!” He exclaimed, eyes twinkling warmly even as he smirked, tone obviously teasing the other man. 

Castiel sniffled and frowned, a small sense of irritation blooming in his chest and he sent Gabriel a disapproving look. “That wasn’t very nice, Gabriel.” he said patiently, “You shouldn’t equate crying with only women, it perpetuates the mistaken assumption that being vulnerable is only for women and is a very negative trait for a man to demonstrate which only continues the trend of toxic masculinity and…”

“Woah! Woah! Jeez Cassie chill! I was just messing with you! What are you, the feminist corporate sensitivity trainer?” Gabriel laughed. “I’m just saying... you don’t have to feel guilty little bro… Phones go both ways and I haven’t exactly been keeping up with you either. I’m glad you reached out.” He said softly. “I’ll have to come and bug you. But listen… you want my advice?”

 

Castiel nodded and leaned forward, hoping that Gabriel would be able to help him figure out how to navigate the sudden surge of panic and dissatisfaction and overwhelming emotions he was feeling. “Yes.” 

Gabriel nodded. “If you really feel this disconnected at your job, you need to quit and find something new. You look dead, little bro. Go out, find something that interests you, hell start a honey business or something, let your hair down. Text this tattoo artist back, get laid, hell get another tattoo… just live a little bro. I expect you to call me back next week and tell me about two new restaurants you’ve tried in your neighborhood.” He said sternly. 

Castiel’s lips pursed a little at the thought, contemplating the idea of eating out twice in a week. It was definitely outside of the norm for him and that alone was enough to make his stomach clench in disinterest. He nodded carefully and eyed Gabriel. Maybe that was the point? Maybe he was supposed to travel outside the norm in order to feel better. Gabriel was annoying at times for how carefree he was, but he was also rarely wrong when he gave advice. “I will, report back to you on the restaurants.” He agreed after a long pause and he felt a little fissure of joy bolt through him at the beaming grin he received from Gabriel. “Attaboy.” was his older brother’s response. “Now go get some sleep, I’ll talk to you later, little bro. And don’t forget to text that man!” He insisted before ending the call.

Castiel sighed. He may love his brother, but he was terribly annoying.

~*~*~

Castiel was stuck at his desk, doing the regular check in with his mail at 8 am the following morning, trying hard to ignore the itching in his chest. He knew not to scratch at it, and he had already applied the lotion that Dean had given him to soothe the irritated skin. He sighed when he looked down at his watch after what was surely several hours of looking at Ms. Widdersham’s terribly kept records and groaned aloud when he realized it hadn’t even been an hour. 

“Are you alright, man?” Asked his generally quiet cubicle mate. Castiel startled a little at the suddenly spoken words, having gotten used to equating Kevin with the gentle classical music that came from his computer speakers and the scent of energy drinks and shuffles of paper that pleasantly faded into the background. 

Castiel was at a loss for a moment and he swallowed down another fissure of guilt that lanced through him at the realization that he never really spoke to the younger man. “I am… well, thank you Kevin.” He said softly and he felt the sudden urge to continue connecting to people. “I was… disappointed with the slow passage of time.” He continued, noting the surprised expression that crossed the other man’s face as he turned to face him. 

“Yeah… I know right? It’s always crawling… I feel like I’ve worked a year every time I clock in.” Kevin agreed, his tone indicating surprise and awe at hearing Castiel speak in complete sentences to him. Castiel wondered for a moment if everyone would be as shocked, had he really been this much of an isolationist? That cloistered that he shocked his roommate enough to be visible just by speaking to him?

Castiel’s lips quirked as he finally processed what Kevin had said. “It certainly does seem to stretch.” He agreed and he eyed the other man. “Would you like to go grab lunch at the cafe down the street today?” He asked curiously. “My brother has mandated I should try new restaurants in the area.” He explained. 

Kevin lit up and he nodded. “Yeah… I mean yes. That would be great.” He agreed brightly and then rolled his eyes when the elevator sounded and the doors opened to allow Zachariah’s nasally voice to echo through the office. “I don’t care…” the man was saying into a phone and Castiel felt the urge to roll his own eyes… one he gave in to. 

The look on Kevin’s face was priceless in return. 

Castiel applied himself to the books, trying to focus on the numbers as Zachariah came around, still on the phone, to check on their progress before heading back off again without even a word of acknowledgement. 

Castiel sighed and pulled out his cell phone once Zachariah was gone and stared at Dean’s text. He knew the tattoo would look better once it healed. Google had been very informative of that, but it looked much better in the picture than it did this morning. He painstakingly entered Dean’s name into his contact list and let his fingers hover over the keyboard before he began to type out the text, anticipation curling in his gut at the thought of texting the other man. 

‘Good Morning, Dean. Thank you for working with me last night. I appreciate your efforts and kindness. It was a very rewarding experience. How are you doing this morning?’ 

He hesitated a moment, finger hovering over the little blue arrow before he quickly pressed it and sent the message before nerves could prevent him from doing so. He immediately felt his chest tighten though so he sent a text to Gabriel. “I just sent Dean a short message service message.” He informed his brother, frowning when read receipts popped up and then he got a single thumbs up hand in response. 

He clicked back over to the text with Dean and cocked his head curiously. His messages with Gabriel were in Blue but the one to Dean came up green. “Kevin?” He asked after a moment and waited until he had the younger man’s attention. “I wondered if you might have some information… I sent a short message service message to a… friend. But it is popping up green instead of blue.” he shared, face showing his confusion. 

Kevin blinked at him slowly for a moment and then cocked his head. “A what now?” 

Castiel sighed internally and waved his phone. “Short Message Service message… SMS?” He abbreviated as he usually saw it done. 

Kevin’s face cleared of confusion and he snorted. “Oh… you have an iPhone? It means that the person you’re texting has an android… they don’t have an iPhone so it goes back to sms instead of apple message.” He said patiently. 

Castiel’s shoulders slumped in relief and he nodded. “Thank you for explaining.” He said gratefully and Kevin nodded in amusement. “Yeah sure, you don’t send that many texts huh?”

Castiel shook his head, “No I do not.” He agreed and then quickly stared down at his phone when it gave a quiet ding of a text message. It was from Dean! 

‘Hi, Nm wyd?’

Castiel stared at the text in utter bafflement before copying it and switching over to message Gabriel. 

C: ‘I am concerned’

G: ‘What’s up buttercup?’

C: ‘Dean may have had a stroke… This is the short message service message he sent me: ‘Hi, Nm wyd?’’

G: ‘ He didn’t have a stroke. He said Hi, Nothing Much, What are you doing?’ 

C: ‘Shouldn’t wyd be wayd then? Why would he not text out the full question?’

G: ‘It’s text speak.’

C: ‘It’s nonsensical!’

Castiel switched back over to Dean’s message and shook his head lightly at the abbreviated words. ‘I am currently working on ordering and deciphering 30 years of taxes and accounting for a woman in her 80s. I am glad that your day isn’t strenuous.’ 

There was a moment’s wait and then another text came back: 

D: ‘LMAO sux 2 b u. Tat ok?’

Castiel stared at the text in horror and switched back to Gabriel. 

C: ‘Are you sure he has not suffered a stroke? Pulmonary embolism perhaps?’

G: What did he say now?’

C: ‘LMAO sux 2 b u. Tat ok?’

G: ‘Laughing my ass off. Sucks to be you, Tattoo okay?’

C: ‘Why is he like this?’

G: ‘

C: ‘You are less than helpful.’

G: ‘Love you too, Cassie.’

Castiel gave an aggrieved sigh and he switched back over to Dean. 

C: “Thank you for asking. My tattoo itches and is swollen and developing scabs. My research on google tells me this is normal so it did not seem important to bother you about the matter.’ He paused and sent that message then sent another ‘It is rather rewarding once I’ve managed to unravel and order all of the records but the beginning is rather tedious.’

D: ‘Yeah sounds abt right. R U aight w/cream?’

Castiel made an aggrieved sound and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Kevin was glancing up at him, curiosity obviously piqued. Why must the amazing, handsome tattoo artist insist on typing like a moron? He sighed and sent it to Gabriel and ignored the laughing crying face he got in return as he responded to the translated text. 

C: ‘Yes the cream application process was quite simple. I will be reapplying in a few moments as your instructions stated every three to four hours.’ 

D: ‘ATC u not crying is rad. U R a boss w/pain’

Castiel abhorred the fact that he could almost understand that message and he checked ATC with Gabriel to receive the translated ‘all things considered’

C: ‘Thank you, I might come visit you again soon so that I might obtain another tattoo.’ He texted and then tried to hide his own surprise at the boldness of that statement. He had hardly planned the first one and now he wanted another? There was more of a pause on this reply but it came through fairly fast. 

D: Corruption IRL FTW! NP Cas, whnevr U want.’ 

Castiel closed his eyes and counted to ten after sending it to Gabriel for translation. Once he got it he shook his head and replied to Dean. 

C: ‘I will make sure to let my older siblings know that the corruption was entirely in your hands. I will perhaps stop by tonight but I must return to my work now. It was very nice to chat with you.’

D: ‘KK CYA Cas, TTYL.’

C: ‘Goodbye Dean, have a nice day.’

He couldn’t wait until later but first… 1994 was calling his name. 

~*~*~

The rest of the workday was a complete disaster for Castiel, who couldn’t help but loathe Mrs. Widdershins for her abysmal records that took approximately 900 years for him to decipher and order. From what he could tell, she was a very sweet old lady who had amassed an enormous amount of debt buying antique china, shoes and handbags and several taxidermied zebras… Castiel really didn’t want to know what one could possibly need one taxidermied animal for… not to mention the eight he had found so far. 

He sighed and packed up his briefcase before he nodded to Kevin. “Thank you for accompanying me to the cafe, I will let Gabriel know of our successful venture.” He said with a small attempt at a smile and Kevin lit up. “Yeah, I mean… yes, of course.” He said quickly and gave Castiel a hopeful smile. “Maybe we can do it again?” He offered and Castiel nodded slowly. “That would be pleasant.” He agreed and then turned to leave. 

“Okay, well bye!” Kevin called after him as Castiel opened the door to the stairwell. 

“Goodbye Kevin.” Castiel bid and then quickly made his way down the stairs. He liked to avoid the elevators so he didn’t feel obligated to speak to the other employees and even though he had vowed to be more open and reach out to others… he’d rather make his escape today to go see Dean. 

He wondered if somehow the man had put some sort of hallucinogenic drug in the ink… why else was he contemplating another tattoo and the pain of permanent body modification in order to see the other man again? He hardly counted himself amongst those who derived pleasure from painful experiences so he was sure it wasn’t the delight of the tattooing experience itself. He was sure it was more than that… He thought the man’s eyes had been beautiful and had spoken of his own secrets and life story that Castiel desperately wanted to learn. He had admired the man’s form, certainly. The clean, strong lines of his body wrapped in denim and cotton. But more than that, he admired the way the man’s face would set into a fierce expression as he concentrated on a tricky portion of a tattoo, the simple way his body melted and relaxed when the gun turned on with its horrible buzzing noise. How his large, strong hands would anchor Castiel into the seat while he held him still to mark up the next portion of the tattoo. 

He shook his head at himself and how he was waxing poetic about Dean. He knew it was just some sort of fascination; granted, one he wanted to explore and figure out. On one hand, the whole surreal atmosphere and experience of the other night could have added to the pull towards the rough artist… The rain, forced detour, realization of how isolated he had become, and painful memories of his past mixing into the sensations from the tattoo resulting in heightened emotions finally releasing from where he had shoved them deep inside and ignored them. 

There was a good chance that in daylight, without the rain and loneliness from the day before, he would arrive, find out that Dean was just an ordinary man, and be able to forget him… Castiel wasn’t sure he believed this rationalized explanation his brain was trying to feed him. Still his feet quickly directed him down the street towards the small shop off the main road and he felt his heart starting to race. 

It was only when he was a two blocks away that he suddenly realized he had no idea what to get. 

What new mark would he have Dean etch into his body? What was he going to allow a permanent portion of his body and soul? He thought of what was important to him and he frowned, thinking about the few things he truly valued… Gabriel, Michael and Lucifer as well… his bees and garden and the escape and peace they gave him. Family and freedom… He paused, staring at the storefront, so different in the light and he eyed it with trepidation as he finalized the symbols… Lollipop for Gabriel, the one who would do anything for Family. A pen for Lucifer the lawyer who spent his life working to persuade others to his side… Strength. A bee for himself, a determined creature and Resilience to celebrate his continuing journey… And Faith for Michael, the one who worried about everyone and would fight to the death for their happiness. A Sword to keep them all safe. Familia, Virtus, Mollitiam et Fidei. 

He smiled after a moment, making sure the idea was perfect in his mind and cementing the excuse he needed to see Dean again. He carefully took a measured breath, stealing himself and squaring his shoulders. He just had to keep ignoring the taut pull to his still healing chest and the way it warmed when Dean turned and smiled at him when he opened the door to Metamorphosis Tattoo.


End file.
